crate & boredom

This entry is written by Andy Chen, a 105-pound, 37 year-old Chinese man. He is also the person who has been my boss and coworker for the past two days at a Crate & Barrel warehouse in central New Jersey. Enjoy. ~Jamie

Heya, Andy here. I thought I'd give a little wrap-up of the work we have been doing the past two days. Basically, we were repairing about 170 large, circular mirrors that weigh about 40lbs a pop. This job consists of unwrapping, repairing, and then re-wrapping the mirrors. The same five-minute process, 170 times.

I am somewhat lacking in knowledge of the English language--and on the job I like to keep things simple-- so if I need Jamie to do something I usually just point and grunt. If he doesn't immediately understand that for example, the point n' grunt means I want him to go get the box-cutter, open a box, get more tape and screws, and then do a little tap dance; then I just grunt louder and point in a more forceful manner.

When it is absolutely necessary that I use words, I will do so, but in a special way. Like if I want Jamie to put three pieces of tape on the box labels, I will yell "two!" at his confused face, and when he doesn't realize that any numeral value between the numbers one and ten are referred to as "two!" then I will do something nasty like grab the tape gun out of his hand, put three pieces of tape on the labels, and yell "two!".

And even when Jamie makes mistakes that he somehow doesn't think I'll notice, (like driving a screw so hard into the mirror frame that it splits the wood irreparably,) I will make damn sure he knows that I noticed by making a very loud grunt and saying "big crack!"

Anyway, though he is a pretty lousy worker, his upbeat attitude toward the Sisyphean task of completing so many mirrors was impressive, and that's why I offered him a job as my assistant in a furniture warehouse in the middle of nowhere California. There he could do this kind of work everyday for the rest of his life for some paltry sum of dollaz per hour. Probly two.

All my love,

Andy